


Toys

by HauntedCity



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Masturbation, Mentions of trying to conceive, Mutual Masturbation, Oneshot, Reader-Insert, Requested, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23634892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HauntedCity/pseuds/HauntedCity
Summary: Reader insert request. Hank is busy with something work-related and all you want to do is play. You don't want to distract him so you turn to your trusty vibrator to keep you satiated for the time. This is, until Hank hears you...then you're in trouble.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 124





	Toys

**Author's Note:**

> Just for fun I figured I'd post this here as well. Someone requested this piece on tumblr. Debating if I should make this a series of the oneshot reader inserts I've done. Enjoy!

Hank hates bringing work home with him, you know this, but nights like tonight he has to. There is something shady going on at Central Station and he doesn’t know exactly who he can trust. God forbid he walks away from his desk for a minute, leaves paperwork out, asks questions to the wrong coworker…

Something is going on and someone is covering it up and it _maybe_ involves an android which seems to make Connor feel invested.

It’s late, really, way later than he wants to be working on this. His eyes burn from reading, and re-reading files he’d printed off before he left work.

A beer sits on the kitchen table, untouched. You’d popped the top for him before kissing his cheek and leaving him alone.

“Just a little bit, babe, I just…I gotta figure it out.”

It is _rare_ seeing him this invested in his work, but you know when not to push so you sit in the living room, quietly petting Sumo and barely watching a movie.

Hank is way more interesting to you than this movie. He doesn’t even know you’ve been staring but you can’t help it; the focused look on his face, the knitted brow, the way he gnaws on his lower lip in concentration every so often…it’s unlike him and you are _invested_.

When Sumo lays down, you flop over on your belly, pulling the couch cushion under your chin as you snake your hand between your hips and the couch. Your fingers maneuver down until you press against your clit and bite your lip at the sensation.

Is this wrong? Weird? Maybe. But you were _very_ aware that you’re ovulating and your sex drive increased significantly. You just hadn’t had the chance to tell your boyfriend – but a part of you wants to. You debate if you should share this information with the class just yet. On one hand, he’s been working for almost two hours and probably needs to knuckle down, on the other hand you _really_ need him.

You figure you can last a little longer and you’re sure he is going to make it worth your time, he always does.

So, you settle for playing with yourself _just a little_.

The pressure in this position, with your palm cupped against your pubic bone, your fingers dancing across your clit – is the perfect sensation and _always_ makes you come.

“Hey, y/n?” Hank’s deep voice startles you and you slip your hand away, pulling it back up to fold calmly under the pillow you’re lying face-down on. Hank glances over at you. “C’mere,” he says it gruff and you’re feeling even more aroused. Slowly, you rise and make your way to him, tentative steps. Had he _seen_? Is he going to make demands? _Punish you?_

“Yes?” you manage.

He doesn’t even glance at you. “These symbols were at the scene. I snagged a note off their desk and…does the writing look similar to you?”

The two items are vastly different mediums, and if you squint maybe you can see a similarity.

“Honestly, Hank, no…”

“Fuck,” he grumbles, balling the paper in his palm before tossing it toward the kitchen trash.

“Hey, honey, come to bed…you can look at this in the morning,” you’re kissing at his neck.

“Mmmm…” Hank’s moan shoots arousal to your core, like he’s aware of what he’s doing to you, like he _enjoys it_. “You know I’d like that very much,” he hums against your ear. “But m’so close, I can feel it.”

You try not to let his words bug you; you knew it was going to be longer of a wait and he would take care of you. Why are you rushing?

Only you can feel the heat pooling between your legs as you stood there and Hank rubs his beard, making that _delicious_ scratching sound. You want his face between your legs but you know the second you said anything he’d be abandoning his work and maybe losing his hot streak of finding clues.

So, you tell him you’re going to take a shower. You need the space. The water is hot and you’re satisfied enough with his clean, fluffy towels you’d bought him. Not to mention your little _friend_ …

Your vibrator had been shoved in a drawer in Hank’s room, but you manage to find the one you left at his place. Not your favorite, but it’ll get the job done.

You assume that this would satiate you for now and the water running would cut down on the hum…maybe Hank won’t hear.

It was like a little game: he always loved watching you pleasure yourself. You feel the same in regards to him. He’d shared, one drunken night together, that none of his other flames had ever been ‘interested enough’ to watch him wank it (his words, not yours)

There was something alluring about the whole thing. You love watching him pleasure himself, it gave fuel to your fire, let you see just how he likes to be touched, what speed he wants it, how hard…

Fighting the moan that threatens to leave your throat, you lean your head back against the wall of the shower. The vibrator is on the lowest setting and the speed is tantalizing. You want it faster, you want _Hank_.

“Fuck,” you huff, pressure building as you think of Hank’s fist closed around his cock – stroking – the muscles in his forearms…

With your free hand, you grasp at your hardened nipples, pinching them between your thumb and forefinger the way that Hank usually did.

And then…it stops.

Your eyes shoot open, blinded by the running shower water for a moment as you gaze down at the toy in your hand. The light no longer illuminated, you practically growl at the realization that you hadn’t charged it last use.

“God damn it…” you slam it on the shelf by the soap then let your hand fall back between your thighs. The frustration made you lose that edge and you sigh heavily. “Fuck me…”

You begin to wash your hair, mind drifting to thoughts of Hank taking you in the shower last week. Your arousal was overwhelming and one swift touch to your clit makes you hiss at the sensation.

By the time you start washing your body, you wonder how long the charge would take…could you use it _while_ it charged?

And suddenly it hit you: the cock ring. You’d bought it for Hank as sort of a gag gift last Christmas. The two of you had a running joke that he was too girthy for a cock ring. You could remember the boisterous laugh he let out when he opened your gift.

Of course you _tried it_ , it would have been a waste of money otherwise. But…it was a flop. Hank was, indeed, girthy and it made the thing…uncomfortable he said. Not _painful_ , just not great.

You, however, enjoyed the vibrating feature on it.

It isn’t your first choice, but desperate times…it will have to do.

Quickly, you finish washing yourself. Water shut off, fluffy towel wrapped around yourself, you rush to dry off and make your way into Hank’s room.

In the kitchen, Hank sighs at the paperwork. His eyes are getting dry, beer warm by now.

When Hank’s phone rings, he reaches to answer it. Connor. Again. Third time in an hour.

“Damn it, you’re gonna need to cool it with these calls, Connor.”

He stands to put the beer in the fridge, phone pressed to his ear. Leaning back against the closed fridge, he listens to Connor ramble on and then pauses, pulling the phone from his ear for a second.

While he’d been reading, he must not have realized: the sound of the shower shut off. How long ago? Weren’t you going to come by and lay on the couch until he was done?

His mind trails to you slipping and hurting yourself and he pushes off the fridge to check on you.

And then he freezes.

Is that…

No.

Can’t be.

Quietly, Hank steps toward the hallway, listening in.

His bedroom door is open only a crack, which was odd. Taking a few quiet steps forward, he draws closer to the room and listens.

Fuck…

Tentative fingers press against the wood of the door, pushing gently so as not to make himself known.

Connor’s voice still drones on the phone but Hank is _long_ past the point of paying attention.

Hungry eyes take in the scene before him: y/n lying on your back, head on his pillow, legs arched, fingers pressing his vibrating cock ring against your clit, a pleasured expression on your face in the dim light.

The hum of the vibration had alerted him in the kitchen and, fuck, are you in trouble…

Feeling bold, Hank forces the door open further, a resounding squeak making you jump.

You look like a _sight_ ; mouth an ‘o’ shape, rising to your elbows.

“Hank!” you gasp.

The man puts the phone back to his ear. “Connor, gotta go.” And he hangs up, slamming the thing on the wardrobe. “What do you think you’re doin’ in here, sweetheart?” his voice seems kind, even, but you can tell he’s a mix of irritation and arousal right now and you’re hoping to play on that latter half.

“Hank, I swear…I didn’t want to disturb you. I just…” he draws closer to the bed, looking contemplative, slightly menacing. “The-the shower. I was…in the shower and…an the vibrator it…lost its juice so I thought…” your sentence trailed off.

“You thought what, exactly?” his deep voice is right beside your ear as he snatches the cock ring from you, feeling your wetness having coated it. “Thought you’d take care of it yourself?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” you admit. “M’sorry, baby, I know how much you like to watch and I just…I couldn’t help myself. You looked _so good_ sitting there, hard at work.”

He raises a brow at that and you realize for the first time tonight that Hank is extremely aroused, cock pressing harshly against the zip of his pants.

You watch him insert a digit into his mouth, tasting you from your wetness on the cock ring which still vibes in his hand. A deep moan leaves him, distracting you for a second. You’d been so damn close once again when he caught you and all you wanna do is come.

Abruptly, Hank presses the vibrating thing to your clit, rubbing deep circles and you fall back on the bed, hand reaching for his arm and clawing at the skin as his pressure is unrelenting.

“F-fuck, _Hank_ …” you cry out.

“Now you’re going to continue and I’m going to watch,” he waits a little longer, lets the vibration do its thing, enjoys watching you writhe beneath him. He’s absentmindedly palming himself through his pants and his precum is leaving a wet mark in the jeans.

Thumb pressed to the toy, he slips a digit inside of you, arching it just the way he knows you like it. You’re practically crying at this point, so grateful to be so close to climax once again.

And then he’s gone as quickly as he comes and you let out an audible _growl_.

He’s across the room, sitting in a chair, fidgeting with his belt without taking his eyes off you. You can see how aroused he is and as his cock springs out of his boxers, he starts stroking himself.

He’s been kind enough to leave you the vibrating ring and you’re thankful but slightly disappointed. There’s something about Hank’s fingers, the way he can reach that _spot_ inside of you, no problem. Even your fingers don’t do it justice – they’re too tiny whereas Hank’s fingers applying just the right amount of pressure sends you over the edge.

You’re disappointed too because you know how late it is and you know that after Hank comes all over his stomach or down his hand or – God-willing – _on you_ , he’s going to want to go to sleep. It’s going to take a serious amount of begging to get him to fuck you, you’ve broken one of the few requests he has for you. You’d call it a rule, so would he, but you know he wouldn’t be bold enough to punish _too harshly_ – it’s just not in him with you.

“What were you thinking about?” the pace his fist is at remains slow, tantalizing for the both of you.

“This. You, jerking it,” you bite your lip as you speak, aware of how stimulated these sexual, breathy conversations leave Hank. Maybe you’ll be able to get this to work out in your favor. “And…and you fucking me in the shower. And that position with my legs up, thighs against my chest, feet behind your head as you _pound_ into me.”

That does it, Hank’s fist quickens its pace around his cock and you can see the precum oozing.

Fuck.

“Mmm…good. Good, sweetheart…” he grunts. “Why so needy tonight?”

You were close until he asks this question. “I’m ovulating, Hank.”

His pace falters just a moment but then he’s quickening his fist around his cock.

“Oh.”

Hank loves when you’re ovulating, loves how wet you are, how easily aroused, how desperate you are for him to slip his cock inside of you. He also loves that sometimes you’re _too damn wet_ which makes it hard for him to _feel_ too stimulated and so your romps sometimes last longer than usual.

And here you go, pleading with him to let you ride him.

“M’close, I won’t take long, I promise. Hank, please…” the thought of getting to come on his cock turns you on even more, makes you desperate.

You’re about to shift off the bed and make your way over to him, try to seduce him, but he’s onto your game faster than you expect.

“Ah, stay there, duchess. No. _You_ come. _Now_.”

Nodding, you melt at the controlling tone. “Yes, sir.”

Fuck, Hank’s faltering at this; at seeing how desperate and eager you are. He can’t keep this façade up much longer. He wants to be in you more than anything right now. But he wants you to think he’s this cruel, wants to play with that edge a little bit more.

His cock twitches when he sees the normal tells that you’re close to an orgasm _finally_ – he can imagine how frustrated you are. And, being the asshole he is, he wants to add to it.

Your toes are curling and he’s _so fucking aroused_ right now…but he manages to pull it together before you come undone and rises to his feet, takes two steps toward the bed, startling you.

You look up at him with your big doe eyes and he almost comes right there on the bed.

“Lay back,” he instructs softly. You visibly shiver, doing so without hesitation. “Fuck, what a good girl,” he coos as he slowly undresses.

He doesn’t even mind that you’re still touching yourself as he does this. Awkwardly, he crawls onto the bed, insisting that you scoot over. You gaze at him, needy and desperate and begging for instructions.

“Ride me.”

You do as you’re told, easily straddling thick thighs to lower your dripping pussy down onto his hard shaft.

You both moan together and the feel of him filling you is almost too much, you almost come.

Shifting forward, you gaze up at him for permission, knowing that your clit just needs a little stimulation from his pubic bone as his cock penetrates you.

Normally, he’d let you, but this time he’s irked that you played with yourself without even the _slightest_ inkling that you were worked up. And so he chooses to press his hand forward, placing his thumb on your clit. You gasp, grasping his hair and rocking your body onto him. He knows what you want, but you’re not getting it. You’re lucky you’re getting this, he figures.

Not to mention he _needs you to come_. Soon. Now.

He’s close, too close considering you just got started. But the way you’re rocking yourself on him at the current moment, he gave himself a pass. That added with your wetness during ovulation just tips him over the edge.

“M’close,” you say and it’s almost like a prayer, sounds a lot like ‘Hallelujah’ falling from your lips.

Hank watches you, wants to _see it,_ that moment where you completely lose yourself and the pleasure overtakes you. That’s why he loves watching you masturbate. He doesn’t want you hiding your face or covering your mouth to quiet the noises. He wants _you_ – all of you – and sometimes he loses that edge when he’s buried inside you.

“Come on, baby,” he eggs you on, knowing how much you enjoy that. And then, “Fuck, you’re _milking my cock_ right now, honey…”

At that, you completely lose it, feeling the delicious pulse deep in you. Hank’s thighs are wet, _your thighs are wet_ …

The feeling of your climax pushes Hank toward release too. He fucking _loves_ the way you can’t seem to stay upright after an orgasm, _loves_ how you snuggle against his chest and pepper kisses and bite and claw at him, _loves_ the gasps and cries of his name…

Seconds after you’re spent, he’s spilling inside of you, gripping at your hips and moaning softly, head thrown back against the pillow. You love to see the pleasure on his face, to feel his warm release inside of you.

You’ll try not to get too excited about a baby in the next few weeks, just as you’ve done every month for the past six. Hank is convinced he’s ruined his sperm with his slip into alcoholism before you two started dating, but you assured him you weren’t worried.

It isn’t a _priority_ right now and clearly you aren’t taking precautions, but…hey, the thought is always exciting. You know he’ll have a drink or several in the next few days, thinking about Cole but you will pick him up as you’ve done every month for the past six.

“Ah, God, _fuck_ , I love you,” he mumbles as you collapsed next to him, still kissing at his neck and running a hand down his chest.

“I love _you_.”

“You know,” he sighs, watching as you drape your body over him, intertwining with him. He never gets used to the feel of you in bed with him. He’s still convinced it’s a dream. “I would’a stopped working the minute you said you were ovulating.”

You laugh. “Noted. Next time.”

“Next time,” he agrees.


End file.
